The Kids

Sometimes I wonder: why am I here?

"To glorify God and enjoy Him forever. Duh!"

But... but that answer is so enigmatic, so opaque.

"That's a horrible thing to say... you realize that, right?"

Well, yes... but no. I mean, how does that play itself out? How can I grab hold of that purpose and run with it? How can I make it my own?

*other voice is silent*

This is a conversation that I often have with myself. Life gets long, and it is incredibly short at the same time. It seems to drag on and on and on, and then the good bits just fly by like a Chinese rockets, bursting into a glorious spectacle of flame and then gone.

It took me a while, but I remembered something: the kids. Those little mites that are between 2 and 4 feet tall. The ones that feel more deeply than I can at this point in my life. The ones that laugh louder, cry harder, and set their eyes on goals with a fury that I can scarcely even imagine attaining myself.

I was that young once. I am not anymore. I have tried pretending to be that young again, but it rarely (if ever) works. More often than not I simply end up shirking duties that I DO have, and the short bout of childishness ends up not fulfilling after all. I need to stop kidding myself (pun not intended, honest), I am now an adult. We ALL need to stop kidding ourselves. Our attempts at innocence and childishness often fall so short of the real thing. Why is this? Because we spend too much time with other adults and far too little time with real children. We should just watch them. Watch. Listen. Learn.

Not only that... but we ought to invest. We ought to be investing in those that will come after us. Take their fire and use it to stoke yours. Share the spark that they have not yet lost. Chase down your life with as much passion as they do. This is not easy. In fact, it may be one of the most difficult things in the world. Jesus commanded we become like little children. I know you've probably heard that a million times... but think about it: Jesus commanded it. Since when did Jesus command us to do anything that was easy?

In summary: Being a kid is tough. Don't kid yourself. But don't stop trying, because, in a word, it's why we're here.

A Discrepancy

While watching a movie the other day with my roommates one of them started to fall asleep. He was the only one of us that had not yet seen it, and we probably would not have been watching it in the first place if not for him. Knowing that I probably would have wanted him to wake me up and whispered rather loudly: "Hey, I don't know if I should let you fall asleep or wake you up so you can watch the movie. Do you still want to watch it?" He promptly woke up and presumably remained awake for the remainder of the film.

This got me thinking though: almost every Friday at our school we have a specially guest lecture, debate, presentation or exhortation. We are required to be there to listen and the dean keeps attendance. But the weekly event, named "Disputatio" (Latin for a discussion or debate) by the facailty, has been dubbed "Naputatio" by the student body. Funny? Yes. True? Also yes. By the end of the week, most of the students are running on far too little sleep, and many of them (me included on occasion) fall asleep during these lectures.

It was at this point that I realized a bit of a problem: why are we ok with this? Why are we paying thousands of dollars to be here and listen to wise men and gain their wisdom only to fall asleep when they are trying to teach us. But buy a 20 dollar movie and you will do your best to keep your friends awake for the entire thing so that they won't miss a punchline. There is something very wrong with this picture.

Maybe we should start poking our neighbors in the ribs during lecture...

Nothing Quite Like It

The strangest things can take you out of yourself. As humans, fallible and fallen, we often focus inward, looking for something to cling to. That thing may be good or bad (at least our perception of it seems so), but in reality it is usually bad. Introspection has a brother, his name is Selfishness.

Grocery shopping in a haze of numb stupidity, I notice a boy, small even from a 8 year-old's point of view, running around the snack section screaming. Following close behind is a man with the happiest and good natured of faces. He is yelling almost as loud as the boy.

I stop what I'm doing and just watch, a smile spreading across my face as I do so. A father and son, playing, rejoicing, completely oblivious to the shoppers surrounding them. If an attendant of the store had tried to interrupt them, I doubt that either of the two would have paid any attention what-so-ever.

Stop looking inside. Look out. Pay attention.